The Feast of Samhain
by oneiromancer242
Summary: Fans of the Goldsmith/Maximoff relationship will find it totally unsurprising that a certain silver-haired speedster will need some comforting after being left unsupervised with candy in the room. Very unseasonal fanservice one-shot for those who love fluff and belly-rubs.


**Quite a few of you have commented in reviews on how cute you find it that Angela likes to give belly-rubs. This is unabashed fan service for those people. Because damn, it really is adorable.**

When the last of the children had been ushered off to bed, greasepaint wiped from their faces and plastic devil horns hung from the bedsteads, Angela yawned and made her way back down to the lounge. Bedecked in paper chains, satisfyingly tacky ghosts and tombstones, and the disastrous aftermath of twenty small children, she felt sure that Xavier was going to give her a very stern look when he saw it. With a beautiful house like this, he'd wanted a civilised, classy Hallowe'en theme, with dripping candles and haunting music aplenty – but the final choice had not been his, but the youngest students whose party it was. She'd had to push hard to allow it, giving him her best pleading looks and insisting that just because those very small Mutants couldn't yet control their powers enough to be safe going Trick-Or-Treating didn't mean that they should miss out on the ghoulish delight of the spooky season altogether. He had reluctantly allowed the party – on the one condition that she organised and supervised it herself. That had been no problem, knowing that she could count on the help of one very big kid to make sure it all went beautifully.

Peter was perfect for a children's party, with enough enthusiasm and boundless bouncing energy to outstrip even the most hyperactive of the young students, he was an obvious choice for a Hallowe'en co-host. Watching him chaperoning the kids in games and fun all night, she had suddenly felt a little stab of sorrow that she had grown up without siblings. Angela had always been happy to have her father's undivided attention, but seeing the kids flocking around Peter that way made her realise that if she'd had a brother, she would have wanted one just like him – he must have been amazing with his youngest sibling. That gentleness and tolerance shone through in the most astonishing way when he was around kids, and for a moment she had been glad of her pancake white Bride of Dracula make-up to conceal the blush that coloured her cheeks as she caught herself thinking what a good father he could make.

The King of the Vampires was slumped on the sofa as she returned, looking glorious even with smudged eyeliner and his fake fangs removed. He'd drawn the line at allowing her to spray his hair black, but with it smoothed back into a widow's peak he looked almost distinguished, and a little more like Erik than usual. She was glad he usually wore it unstyled and soft – she didn't like seeing the Magneto in him too much. Smiling as she joined him on the sofa, exhausted and happy with the success of the evening, unable to resist mussing the coiffed hair into more of a semblance of its usual state. When that didn't elicit much of a smile, she frowned and poked him in the face. Surely he hadn't actually worn himself out with all the fun tonight? Then again, she thought, there was a slightly unpleasant greenishness about him that showed even under the whiteface.

"Something up, sleepyhead?" she asked kindly, poking him again this time in the side. He frowned and shook his head, though his stomach answered for him with a plaintive noise that seemed to say "What did I do to deserve this?!". Angela laughed quietly at him, manhandling him to lay down across her lap and unfastening the top button of those unutterably sexy black leather jeans for him. She really should have expected this, she thought. She'd been so busy making sure none of the kids ate so much candy they were sick that she'd forgotten the one person truly likely to do such a thing. Xavier kept such a tight reign on the amount of sugar he would allow in his school that on the one night he was allowed as much as he wanted, she should have known that Peter wouldn't even pause to consider whether or not he really should. He gave her a slightly sickly smile and wide puppy-dog eyes and she smirked back at him.

"I really shouldn't give you sympathy, you know"

He stuck his bottom lip out at her, looked as appealing as he possibly could, which damn it all was *very* appealing. Even now she was used to it, she still couldn't resist Peter's pleading face. Gently she unfasted the buttons of his velvet waistcoat and slid a hand under his shirt. She knew that face. It was his "But Angie, I ate everything in sight and now my belly hurts" face.

"Did you have fun tonight?" he asked her, closing his eyes as she started carefully working on settling his stomach for him. She smiled back, getting comfortable with his head in her lap

"Yeah" she grinned. Thought a minute "You're so good with kids, I don't know how you do it"

"S'easy. You just run about and make a whole lot of noise with them, they love it"

"I guess having the energy of ten parents rolled into one helps"

Her fingertips gently kneaded at his flesh, careful not to push too hard on way too much of everything, softly stroking over the taut skin of his stomach. He was going to fall asleep on her, she just knew it, and she considered wriggling out from under him when he did and leaving him on the sofa so that the inevitable noisy gurgling didn't keep her awake again. She wondered how he slept through it, though she was glad he did – it was one guaranteed way to put him out like a light to make sure he stuffed himself before bed. Not that he really took much encouragement on that score.

"Do you think you'll ever have kids?"

It was such an out-of-the-blue question that she forgot herself for a moment and pressed just a touch too hard on an extra helping of pumpkin pie, making him groan at her.

"Sorry, Puppydog" she apologised. He settled back on her lap a little more comfortably. Thinking for just a minute before she answered, "I don't know – do you think it would be right? I mean, I have the X gene, they'd probably be Mutants if I did"

"That wouldn't be a bad thing" he sighed, arched his back into her stroking hand and folded his hands comfortably behind his head, "And there's no guarantee, even if both their parents had the gene they might not inherit it"

"You've actually been paying attention in class?"

"Sometimes." He admitted, quiet for a moment, "I wonder what kind of powers they'd have?"

"Electrical powers, right?"

"Not necessarily. I mean look at my family – my Dad bends metal with his mind, but Wanda's powers are nothing like his"

"And *your* power is being able to eat more than should be possible" she chided gently, "oh and speed I guess"

He laughed at her and was quiet a little longer, enjoying the comfort of her fingers on his skin. He wondered when she'd got so good at this, figured it must be some kind of innate talent, and relaxed into her touch a while before he went on.

"I never figured I'd have any kids," he said, and she thought she heard a note of sadness in his voice, "But then again, I never figured I'd end up with someone like you either. So I guess anything's possible"

She let him fall silent, smiling softly down at him. Over the past months he'd gotten a little less twitchy, perhaps slightly less nervous, and she wondered how much of that had to do with training, and how much of it was him relaxing into the idea that she could put up with him indefinitely. Shifting her position slightly to start tracing broad circles with the heel of her palm, letting him turn slightly onto his side. Yep, he was *definitely* going to fall asleep on her.

"I guess so" she whispered. Paused. "Anything apart from me carrying your fat ass upstairs if you crash out down here"

He chuckled softly at her, laying still for a few more minutes before he had finally heaved himself upright and offered her his hand to rise. She accepted it, surprised and delighted to be pulled into a kiss. He tasted of greasepaint and candy.

"Sleep in tomorrow," he whispered in her ear, "I'll have this cleaned up and bring you breakfast"

She nodded, a little shiver running up her spine as his hands found that sweet spot on her lower back that always made her tingle. He grinned wickedly at her

"Sure you won't carry me upstairs?" he asked.

"I don't have super strength you know"

"That's unfair, I'm really light!" he sighed theatrically, "oh well, guess it'll have to be this way then"

Without warning he scooped her up in his arms, putting on a terrible parody of a Bela Lugosi accent

"Come my Bride, the dawn approaches!" he declared, and swept her away up the stairs.


End file.
